


For Your Time

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Largely Plotless, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Time is money'. Few people know this as well as Akashi and Kuroko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Your Time

**Author's Note:**

> I've been struggling to write these two lately, so there are no deep introspective things going on. Sorry. I'm busy with life, and writing, and life. Not sure when the next chapter of Acquisition will be ready, so I'll leave this here to ease the guilt of my procrastination.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own KnB or its characters.

Seijūrō listened to the soft patter of the rain against his window. There was a slight chill in the air that, though not unbearable, tempted him to stay under the covers for a while longer. He stared idly at the patterns embossed on the ceiling—European designs—exhaling softly to calm himself. Turning his head to the side, he eyed the clock on the bedside table. Half past six, on a Saturday morning. It was still early, by ordinary people's standards, but he could already hear the sound of movement from somewhere downstairs, and the quiet shuffling of feet in the corridor. He should have been up already. 

And he would've, if it weren't for the body coiled around him like a constrictive serpent crushing the life out of him.

“Tetsuya, let go,” Seijūrō commanded, his voice sharp and humourless. 

Nothing.

“I have never been one to repeat myself.”

“No,” was Tetsuya's quiet, yet determined response. “It's too early, Akashi-kun. And it's the weekend.”

“Then _you_ continue to lie here; I have things to do.” He had brought some of his work home, with the hope that he would spend a few hours looking through it over the weekend. Tetsuya's leg was draped across his thighs and hooked firmly behind one of his calves, while his lover's arms looped around his chest, locking his arms in place. It wasn't comfortable, and Seijūrō could tell that the position was even more uncomfortable for Tetsuya.

He twisted as much as Tetsuya's grip allowed, trying to get himself loose, but found that he was immobilised, locked in, firmly, by his lover's—surprisingly—strong limbs. He sighed.

“What do you want?” Opening the floor for negotiations.

“I want many things, but I'll settle for an hour.” Seijūrō raised an eyebrow at the reply, looking down at his impudent lover, but all he was able to see, from his angle, was the wild tufts of Tetsuya's laughable bed hair. “It's not up for further negotiation,” Tetsuya added, a smile laced into his voice.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Seijūrō reproved, squirming about in Tetsuya's serpentine grip. “Do you know how much work I could get through in an hour?” Tetsuya's movements were so quick and unexpected that, for a moment, Seijūrō wasn't certain as to how the transition had occurred. Before he knew it, blue eyes were staring at him from above, as Tetsuya straddled him, hands planted on either side of his head. Tetsuya looked awfully proud of himself.

“Then,” Tetsuya offered, bringing his lips to rest lightly against Seijūrō's. “I'll have to make it worth your while.” He smiled a smile so wicked, it should be outlawed. Seijūrō couldn't help but wonder, vaguely, whether people would believe him if he ever told them about Tetsuya's 'other side'. The thought quickly dissipated, though, in the burning indignation of being so thoroughly disobeyed. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he tilted his head to the side, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Are you offering to buy my time, with sexual favours as compensation?”

“You make it sound so dirty, Akashi-kun.”

“That's because it is, Tetsuya.”

“Then you, too, have a dirty mind for assuming things of that nature.” Tetsuya shifted himself a little further south, so that he was straddling Seijūrō 's thighs, before pressing his upper body against the redhead's, arms loosely tucked in between their bodies. “I could have been suggesting that we play a game of shōgi or have a friendly debate on the country's current state of affairs.”

Seijūrō's smirk twisted into an unusually wide smile that bared the slightest hint of perfectly straight, white teeth. Tetsuya shivered at the feeling of Seijūrō's fingers tapping lightly against his thighs, as though the redhead was mulling over something. “Yes, well,” he said nonchalantly, gaze drifting upwards to trace the patterns on the ceiling. “We both know that body language speaks louder than words. What else am I expected to deduce from our current position?”

Tetsuya chuckled, not at all deterred.

“Even so,” he countered. “If I have a dirty mind, it's entirely your fault, Akashi-kun.” The redhead's eyes snapped back to stare into Tetsuya's face, curious. “Before this relationship, I was as untouched as fresh snow. You corrupted me, and must, therefore, take responsibility for it.”

“I corrupted _you_? I don't recall you ever voicing any objections or protests to this 'corruption' that I, apparently, carried out. If anything, I believe you encouraged it.” Tetsuya blinked, his face settling into the image of innocence, a sweet smile gracing his features. The fingers that had been tapping against his skin curled firmly around the back of his thighs, and remained there, as the redhead watched him attentively.

“The suggestion that it wasn't unsolicited doesn't take away from the fact that it is your responsibility to bear. Therefore, I want an hour. At least.”

Tetsuya felt the redhead's fingers slide up the back of his thighs, halting at the hem of his shorts, before skimming over the fabric and resting on his narrow hips.

“Time is money, Tetsuya,” Seijūrō declared, eyes tracing Tetsuya's lips as the redhead's thumbs slipped under the other's shirt and rubbed slow circles against flawless, white skin. “And, as you know, mine does not come cheap. This will cost you.”

“Money isn't everything, though.” Tetsuya parted his lips slightly, resting the tip of his tongue against his top lip teasingly.

Seijūrō hummed in response, ducking his head to lick at the space between Tetsuya's jaw and neck, smiling smugly at the way his lover's head tilted to offer more of the sensitive skin there. Pulling at Tetsuya's waist, he urged the other to move back to their original position. Seijūrō didn't suppress his chuckle at the slight bulge that poked against his hip.

In one, smooth motion, he rolled them over, grabbed Tetsuya's arms and pinned them on either side of the shorter man's head. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss—that could almost be described as chaste—against Tetsuya's lips, all thoughts of work put on ice, for the time being.

Tetsuya had always been a good negotiator, better than Seijūrō cared to admit.

“I suppose,” Seijūrō whispered, low and breathy, “it's a good thing that there are alternative mediums of exchange to chose from. Not so?”

\---

It was after ten when Seijūrō finally rolled out of bed, leaving a sleeping Tetsuya snuggled under the covers. After his bath and a late breakfast, he shut himself in his study, going through spreadsheets, graphs, and pages of market analysis findings, making notes to follow up with different departments. Time flew by as he worked tirelessly—as always—stopping only to eat the lunch that Tetsuya practically shoved in his face.

After four in the afternoon, he neatly stacked the loose pages together and filed them away for easy access. After stretching his limbs, he made his way down the stairs and into the living room where he knew Tetsuya was either reading, working, or pretending to be.

Tetsuya was sitting on one of the couches, legs tucked under himself as he read a book that looked heavier than what his thin-looking arms could manage.

“Tetsuya, are you busy?”

“Do I not look busy, Akashi-kun?”

Seijūrō crossed his arms over his chest at the retort—something he often threw at Tetsuya when the shorter man interrupted him while he was working. Though he would never admit it, Tetsuya's displays of challenge were one of the things he admired most in Tetsuya, even before his former team mate had taken on the role of his lover. They pushed each other—too far, at times—yet supported one another, as well, in ways so subtle that only they understood. This was their chemistry.

“I was thinking that we could have tea in the _chashitsu_ ,”—the tea room, overlooking the fish pond and garden at the back of the house—“the weather seems to have cleared.” Tetsuya was still for a moment, his eyes peeking at the redhead over the top of the book, gleaming with something Seijūrō couldn't pin point. Mischief, perhaps?

“You wish to buy my time, with afternoon tea as compensation, Akashi-kun?” The redhead's mouth melted into a genuine smile.

“Perhaps.”

After a brief moment of contemplation, Tetsuya closed the book and placed it carefully on the coffee table, uncurling himself from the couch, though he remained seated on the edge.

“You know,” Tetsuya said with a solemn face, though drollery danced in his eyes. “I quite like these alternative mediums of exchange. Throw in a vanilla milkshake, and we have a deal.”

“Ever the negotiator, aren't you?”

Tetsuya had always had a talent for turning things around, using Seijūrō's own weapons against him. It was endearing, when it wasn't utterly infuriating.

“Not that you're complaining.” Seijūrō watched as Tetsuya stretched quietly, before sauntering towards him, then passing him, and continuing in the direction of the tea room. “Well, are you coming? Time is money, Akashi-kun. And mine doesn't come cheap.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ultimately, this was pointless, plot-less fluff. I think I was trying to capture the 'something' between these 2 that initially drew me to them. Hope you liked it. Thank you for all the love (in kudos & comments), it really is appreciated.


End file.
